Newfound Faith
by Jane-Elle
Summary: This turned out dark. It's about Draco, I don't know myself where it is about. Tell me in your review :)


Newfound Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own anything that's Rowlings.

A/N: I'm quite busy changing everything, right? And I want reviews for this!

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**Newfound Faith.**

Where do I go from here?

I am lost, in search of love

I don't know where to go

Don't know who I should tell

I should tell

Someone about the mark that burns my arm

The mark that has been feared for years

If I do I will be arrested

If I don't it will kill me

I don't know what to do

I want someone who I can trust

My soul is almost gone

I am almost like him now

I must fight it, I know

But he is so strong and I am so small

All I have left is a bit of myself

No longer the boy I once was

All I have is a little stone with my name on it

And it's in the middle of a raging ocean

I doubt it will survive

I doubt I will survive

As long as I have these thoughts I will not be lost

And I will stand up against it

But first I've got to tell somebody

If I don't do it now, I will die tonight

Draco looked lost in thoughts, no one wanted to disturb him. He'd been like this ever since they'd gotten back from home. It was the starting of a new school year, and every Slytherin was excited about what'd happened during the holidays. It was now confirmed that You-Know-Who was back, and the minister of magic had been fired. Instead, the new minister was a young man who's name was Melchior Dawnest. No one'd ever heard about him, but there were rumors. Rumors that he was the son of the greatest wizard of all, Dumbledore. 

And Draco thought. During the summer, he and his father had visited the ministry a lot of times, to make sure minister Dawnest trusted them. He had made a nice impression, with a trustable face and honest eyes. He had even asked them to call him Melchior. So they did. Melchior was the youngest minister of magic, he was only 31 years old and unsure about what he should do. Draco had only seen him angry once, and was frightened about that. Melchior had looked so inhuman, like an evil robot. His eyes didn't shine brightly anymore, they shone with a thirst for blood. And for the only time in his life, Draco was truly scared. In front of him stood a man, but much more than a man. A very powerful wizard,more powerful than even his father. Melchior hated the Dark Arts, not knowing that he had two Deatheaters in his office at the end of the holidays. If he'd known, he would've killed them for sure. Draco shuddered at that thought. Sure, he'd seen death, he'd even killed himself, but to have his own life been taken away… That was not a nice thought. 

He had been thinking about the man he'd killed a lot lately. The look on his face when he heard the words leave his mouth. A look of fear, but also a look of triumph. Of course, he wouldn't have looked so satisfied if he knew his killer was only 15 years old. His death weighed heavy on his conscience. 

Draco had agreed on taking the Dark Mark, sure. He hated the mudbloods and muggles. But it all seemed so unreal now. That night. There were no stars, no moon, everything was dark. And all those silent people around him in their black robes and masks. He would become one of them. His father'd said that he would become You-Know-Who's right hand. One of the most powerful men on earth. But Draco wasn't so sure about that idea right now. The reason? One meeting. The killings afterwards. It was so useless. A whole family was killed, and the Deatheaters had all been bragging about who they'd killed and where. But he was more horrified about the way they talked about their victims then about the killings.

"Where are you going, Draco?" asked that stupid girl, Pansy. She was always hanging around, could never leave him alone.

"I'm going for a walk. You don't have to come with me." He knew how that must've sounded, cruel and lifeless, butno one could come with him. If any Slytherin would know what he was about to do, they'd kill him for sure. Or torture him first.

He walked out the entrance of the common room and walked towards the Great Hall. He knew where Dumbledore's office was. He'd been there on the end of last year, when he'd been asked if his father was a Deatheater. Of course, he'd said no. But here he was, betraying his father and all the others. 

He stood in front of the secret entrance to Dumbledore's office. He suddenly realized he didn't have the password. 

"Mr. Malfoy, may I ask what you are doing here in the middle of the night?"

Great. Snape. Just the person he wanted to see. Another Deatheater. Would Dumbledore know that?

"I wanted to see Dumbledore, professor," he answered as polite as he could.

"You wanted to see Dumbledore? Why?" Snape didn't trust him, that's for sure.

"I want to tell him something."

Snape looked at him and decided he'd let him in. "Sugar quill."

What kind of password is that? Thought Draco. He didn't have the time to wonder about that, because a staircase was in front of him and he needed his breath to climb it. At last, they stood in front of a door. Snape knocked and Dumbledore opened. He was still wearing the same robes he'd worn during dinner. 

"Is there something wrong, Severus?" asked Dumbledore worried.

"I believe young Malfoy had something to tell you, Headmaster," said Snape.

Dumbledore turned to him and asked what was so urgent that it couldn't wait until the next morning.

Draco didn't know anything to say. Here he was, about to betray everything he'd ever believed in, a long lifetime ago. Words had flooded from his brain, he didn't know anything to say. So he simply shove his sleeve up and showed them the bare flesh of his left arm. On it was, as clear as when he got it, the Dark Mark. He heard Snape gasping, but didn't pay attention to him. His whole being was focused on the Headmaster. What was he going to do? What was he going to say? Draco surely hoped he wouldn't be expelled. 

"I can't say this comes as a surprise," mumbled Snape.

"Draco, you did the right thing. I have an offer for you. Join the League against Voldemort. Save the world from darkness," said Dumbledore. 

And Draco nodded, and believed in what Dumbledore said. And he would believe in those words his whole life, until he died in a peaceful world. But the peace wouldn't last for long. Always there would be Dark Lords. But there would be always people like him to, ready to betray the dreams they once believed in but changed their minds.


End file.
